


Time After Time (The Build Them Up to Break Them Down Remix)

by tromana



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Challenge: Paint It Red, Drama, Episode Related, Episode Tag, F/M, Remix, s05e20 Red John's Rules, s05e20 Red Velvet Cupcakes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-27
Updated: 2013-05-28
Packaged: 2017-12-13 03:57:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/819716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tromana/pseuds/tromana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Jane and Lisbon's lives get inexplicably more entwined, the propensity for danger only intensifies. After all, Red John does not like sharing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [A Year Ago Today](https://archiveofourown.org/works/721599) by [Lothiriel84](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lothiriel84/pseuds/Lothiriel84). 



> Remix of Lothiriel84's 'A Year Ago Today', as written for the Paint It Red Remixathon Challenge. With thanks to Miss Peg for the beta.

Lisbon curled up on her couch, with a book in hand and a glass of wine sitting on her coffee table. The team had just closed a case, she had the day off tomorrow and thus, this was her personal treat to herself. It was already late, but she had always been a night owl and besides, she was still too wired to settle down for the night anyway. The monotony of the plethora of forms she had to fill in after the case wasn't enough to take the edge off that buzz of adrenalin. It never was. This was a routine that she was more than used to and she wouldn't have had it any other way.   
   
She licked the tip of her index finger to help thumb the next page open when there was a knock at the door. Frowning, Lisbon placed the book back down next to her wine glass and stood up. In theory, she knew there were only a very small number of people who would dare to knock on her door at one thirty in the morning. That list surmounted to her brothers, her neighbors, or somebody from work. All of them would only approach her in the dead of the night if it were an emergency and she flexed her fingers in reaction to the very thought. The last thing she wanted was somebody to disturb her peace because of a tragedy of some variety. Of course, she understood why people would do such a thing; she was a cop through and through and it was her duty to protect and serve. However, she just didn’t like the idea of any of her loved ones going through any type of pain. _That_ was why she never liked the idea of a late night knock on her door.  
   
Then, just as her fingers wrapped around the doorknob, the image of Patrick Jane flitted to the forefront of her mind. Jane was a law unto himself and he didn't seem to need an excuse to do anything. He just went ahead and did it instead, only thinking about the repercussions after they had happened. Naturally, Lisbon knew he had been tempered by the death of his family, but she dreaded to imagine just how capricious and reckless he’d have been beforehand. One brief taste of _that_ behavior had been more than enough, and she had attempted to block it from her memory for the most part. After all, he was a good man and most certainly not the one he had portrayed during his fugue state. Quickly, she glanced through the peephole and was almost relieved to see a very familiar mop of blond curls. That meant nobody was dying. Well, hopefully.   
   
"Lisbon, I know you haven't gone to bed yet. You've just poured yourself a glass of wine and have read a couple of pages of that trashy novel you know you shouldn't read but can't help yourself anyway," Jane announced, and she could hear the smug know-it-all tone already. "You're standing at the door, wondering whether or not you should bother to let me in right now."  
   
"Jackass," she muttered in response, rolled her eyes and then swung it open. At least the fact he was in one of his teasing moods confirmed that everything was okay and she could stop going into 'cop mode' for now. She let out a sigh of relief, one that she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding onto.  
   
Lisbon didn't say a word when she saw him in all his glory. Instead, she let out a short laugh of surprise before taking the time to really scrutinize his appearance. She should have known that he would pull a stunt like this on her. Patrick Jane didn't forget; he memorized every little detail about somebody for future reference. However, she never expected him to react to that little tidbit quite so soon. Lisbon had believed that he would let it stew for a while until she forgot what he'd figured out about her then spring it on her when she least expected it. Not that she expected it right now, though.   
   
 Patrick Jane was wearing a navy blue turtleneck sweater. And, to add insult to injury, he looked hot in it. Not that she would have expected anything less of him, of course.

"What the hell are you wearing?" she said with a smirk, trying desperately to cover up the fact that yes, this was getting a rise out of her. "You look ridiculous."

"Liar," he replied, grinning. 

"No I'm not," she countered, turning on her heels to walk back to her couch. She specifically left her door open, allowing him to follow her inside. There was very little point in turning him away and besides, she appreciated the company. And even if she didn’t, he would have found a way to get inside anyway.

After all, it wasn't the first time he had dropped by her place unannounced and Lisbon was certain that it wouldn't be the last either. If she didn't let him in, she knew that he would keep going until he relentlessly wore her down and got what he wanted. Now, it was far better to try and figure out what his intentions were instead of pretending he wasn't encroaching on her personal time at all. Who knew? There was the distinct possibility that it could even be fun for her. Since he had invaded her life in almost every way possible, Lisbon knew that she couldn't deny that he had made things a lot more interesting for her. 

She almost made it back to her couch when he grabbed hold of her wrist. His grip was firm, but gentle and more than enough of a signal to her for what she needed to do next. Lisbon swallowed deeply as she turned to face him, and the first thing she did was stare him down defiantly. But just as she was about to form the words of a retort, she noticed the look in his eyes. His pupils were dilated; the irises, a thin frame of bluish green as he absorbed her appearance. Immediately she felt exposed and wished she was clothed in more than just her comfortable hockey jersey. Equally, his look made her feel desirable and wanted; that was something she hadn't felt for a long while. Her breath died in her throat; she had no idea what had brought this on. 

But maybe, just maybe, talking kinks and fetishes with him before she had left work was a step too far. She should have known that it wouldn't take much effort for him to figure out exactly what worked for her. And here he was, essentially offering himself up on a plate. His expression said it all: he hoped the feeling was entirely mutual. 

And it was. Lisbon had never been able to deny just how attractive her consultant was. He kept himself in decent shape, his hair always seemed to look utterly beautiful and his smile was to die for. Based on his appearance alone, she had heard many a woman breathe that he looked like a fallen angel; it was how he wooed murderers, relatives of victims and suspects alike. Patrick Jane knew his strengths and was more than willing to use them against people. But for her, what really worked were his eyes. Perpetually sad, they were like a window to his very soul. A soul which she liked to think she understood incredibly well. 

All she could do was hope that she wasn't second guessing him. 

"Teresa..." he murmured. 

With that, she wrested her wrist from his grip only to place each of her hands on his cheeks and pull him down for a crushing kiss. He was obviously startled by her abrupt reaction, but he still complied willingly. This was exactly what he’d come here for and she was relieved that she hadn’t misjudged the situation for once in her life. The very last thing that she had wanted to do was ruin her relationship with Jane over something like this. Besides, it was only in exceptional circumstances that Teresa Lisbon behaved rashly and no words could have described just how she felt to know that her gut had been right. She laced her hands round his back, holding him as close as feasibly possible. The warmth of having him pressed up against her made her feel secure, wanted. Jane’s fingers threaded through her hair, making her shiver with excitement as he deepened the embrace.

After what felt simultaneously like a lifetime and half a second, Lisbon broke the kiss, gasping desperately for air. Jane’s hand ran down her arm until his fingers interlocked with hers. She took him in, wishing she had some of his skills in order to work out where he wanted to go next. Once a boundary had been crossed, there was nothing they could do to change it. They had already shattered many barriers in their relationship by kissing – their _first_ kiss, she firmly reminded herself – alone. This was the moment when a strictly platonic relationship turned into something more, and it was also something that she had never believed Jane would be ready for again.

Yet, he was the one who had approached her. He was the one who had turned up on her doorstep in the dead of the night. And although she had been the one to instigate the kiss they had just shared, he had been the one to trigger it by clasping hold of her wrist and looking at her in _that_ way. Then there was the fact he was wearing that turtleneck as well. She closed her eyes and shook her head. This was insanity; she hadn’t drunk much, but she felt like her brain had fogged over and nothing seemed to make any sense now.

“Hmm, I knew the turtleneck was your weakness,” Jane eventually said, his voice husky. He leaned ever so slightly towards her and she could feel his hot breath on her ear.

“It’s nothing to do with the turtleneck,” Lisbon answered back, retrieving her hand from his grip. Slowly, she let her hands run up his body and then she finally allowed her fingers to skim across the neckline. He didn’t object and her heart felt like it was beating faster and faster. She wanted to expose the flesh there; he was right, this was one of her weaknesses, just like some people had an obsession with feet. But that didn’t necessarily mean it was something she liked to acknowledge on a day to day basis.

“Oh, really?”

“Yes. It’s got everything to do with the _person_ wearing it.”

That wasn’t a lie. Turtlenecks did nothing for her if she didn’t feel some kind of connection to the person wearing it. She wasn’t about to go and admire any man who wore this style of sweater. But, as she had an affiliation to Jane and as they had just shared an unexpected – and delightful – first kiss, it was more than enough to tip her over the edge. No longer was she in denial about the status of her relationship with him. No longer did she feel the need to bury her feelings for him, because Jane was happily exposing them all one by one for her. This was the moment of change and, surprisingly enough, she felt entirely comfortable about that.

Carefully, she rolled down the fabric covering his neck and allowed herself to place a small series of kisses on his newly exposed flesh. Vaguely, she wondered if she would have even dared make a move on him if he had been wearing his usual pinstripe suit. In all honesty, she didn’t know because the change in attire was almost a signal for what Jane wanted to do. He shuddered slightly at the touch of her lips to his skin and she couldn’t help but smirk. For once, her consultant appeared to be lost for words and that was a role reversal that she couldn’t help but appreciate.

Now wasn’t the time to talk about why this was happening though. However, a small voice at the back of her mind couldn’t help but ask those questions. Was this just him pitying her? Did he know she had finally started to acknowledge how she had felt about him for all these years? Was he going to disappear on her again and this was his way of bidding her farewell? Did he need one last moment of comfort before he sacrificed his life to the cause of Red John? Or was this action coming from a genuine place? In the end, all of her questions came out in two simple words:

“You sure?”

He didn’t seem to need even half a second to think about it. Immediately, he nodded in response to her simple question. Lisbon took hold of his hand once more and promptly led him upstairs and to her bedroom. Later, they could deal with the fallout. For now, all she needed was _him_.


	2. Chapter 2

In general, Jane slept very little. Insomnia had plagued him since childhood, but in adult life he had used his skills to actively make it worse. Staying awake and alert was a huge benefit for the lifestyle he chose to live. However, that didn’t mean he couldn’t doze on occasion and that was what he’d done now. When he jolted himself awake, he was somewhat startled to find himself in an unfamiliar bed, with unfamiliar surroundings. After a few moments, he managed to piece together the events that had led him to be here. For a brief moment, he smiled. It felt good to acknowledge feelings he had been trying to ignore in honor of his deceased wife. He now realized he was perfectly capable of loving two women at once; it didn’t do Angela any disservice by being with Teresa Lisbon.

But, that was the part of the puzzle that was missing.

Lisbon had disappeared as he had been sleeping.

It didn't take him long to put together the pieces and figure out where she was. Before they'd gone upstairs, he'd spotted a scribbled post-it note from Tommy, saying that he and Annabeth had gone away for a month. That nixed the idea that she was visiting her younger brother – and the only one who lived in the state of California. Besides, it was far too early for her to be making house calls, even to her closest family. Another option was exercise; Jane knew she was a keen runner and liked to jog in the early morning, if work didn’t preclude her from doing so. However, her sneakers were still carelessly slung in the corner of her bedroom. Therefore, only one viable option really remained, and that was work.

She wasn't meant to be going there, of course. Before the others left yesterday, Lisbon had made it expressly clear that she was pleased with the team's work and wanted them to enjoy a well-earned rest. Cho had probably already leapt at the opportunity to go and visit his long-suffering mother; before he’d left the bullpen, Jane had watched his actions attentively. The way that Cho’s eyes lingered on the small photograph he kept of her there told him enough. And it didn't take a psychic to know what Rigsby and Van Pelt were up to. They were probably cuddled up in one another's arms, while young Benjamin slept soundly in his cot in the next room. The little boy was probably oblivious to the fact he was going to end up with a beautiful step-mom sooner rather than later. Jane was pleased for them; it was about time they sorted out their problems. Now, if only the same could have been applied to himself and Lisbon, he mused glumly.

Work was Lisbon's respite and he knew that it provided her an ideal excuse to get away from him. She could always find little jobs that she insisted were essential that she did and absolutely needed to be done imminently. Of course, Jane would entirely disagree with her, but Lisbon was as stubborn as he was. Besides, she was completely dedicated and although he may not have shown it all that well, he actually admired her for it. However, it was also clear to him that she had used work to fill up the absences in her life. That thought depressed him more than he cared to admit. Somebody like Teresa Lisbon deserved to have far more to live for than just the job.

Still, he was determined to drag her out of work and actually talk to her face to face. He couldn't pretend, not anymore. They couldn't bury this down and act like it had never happened. Even if they did so, then it would still alter their perceptions of one another and other people would be able to tell. Boundaries once crossed couldn’t be uncrossed, he reminded himself firmly.

And that was what was going to put them - her specifically, really - into extreme danger.

Red John was still out there. He was possessive; Jane knew that he saw him as his personal plaything. The fact that he had made a move with Lisbon altered all the pieces on the chessboard. It brought him a glimpse of happiness - a glimpse of the future - that would never do. As far as Red John was concerned, Jane only deserved a lifetime of misery. Immediately, Jane regretted not waiting. He couldn’t regret what they’d done; he knew he loved her. However, the timing was completely wrong and they had made a foolish error. And technically, he had been the one to instigate it; ergo, he was the one willing to shoulder the blame. Once Red John was gone, none of these fears would have existed on the forefront of his mind. But, he hadn't been able to resist; he'd reacted with very little control of his own body. And she hadn't been able to resist either. After all, it took two to tango. So, they needed to do something. They had to prepare themselves. Otherwise, he could lose the only person he could bring himself to love since his wife.

Autonomously, Jane hauled himself out of Lisbon's bed and padded towards her bathroom. There was no point in him rushing and besides, he really needed to shower. At least he knew she had some teabags which she had especially bought for him and his unexpected visits stashed away in her kitchen cupboards. He could have his favorite refreshment the moment he stepped back downstairs. It didn’t take him long to get ready; the thought of Lisbon sitting alone in her office, stubbornly trying to pretend that she hadn’t slept with her consultant – especially while stone cold sober – spurred him onwards. Naturally, he lingered over the cup of tea. There was no point in rushing something as important as that, after all. As he stared around the surprisingly clean and tidy kitchen, he pondered deeply. In another life, this could all have been theirs. He could have actually been a permanent part of her life, were it not for the darkness lingering in the shadows.

He spotted the wine glass in the sink, still stained with her lipstick from where she had only just tasted the contents last night. No, it still could be, one day, he reminded himself firmly. All they had to do was put Red John behind bars which, admittedly, was easier said than done.

Slowly, he placed the teacup down. Less than twenty-four hours ago, he was contemplating just how desperately he needed time to focus on the Red John case alone for an extended period of time. He was trying to figure out a way to persuade her of the necessity of it. Instead, he had donned his only turtleneck and driven straight over here. And now, instead of wanting to see Red John’s body bleeding out on a hardwood floor, he was more than content to allow him to rot on death row. It was funny how quickly supposedly life-long decisions could change.

Deep down, Jane knew that his perceptions had been altering for a long while. He could still remember how it felt to fire that gun three times and how he watched Timothy Carter’s body crumple in that mall. Since that event, he hadn’t been able to dare set foot in that place again. Carter may have been a deeply disturbed and guilty man, but that didn’t change the fact that he wasn’t Red John. His ghost still lingered and Jane knew that in reality, he would never go away. But it wasn’t just Carter who had gotten under his skin and made him rethink his ideas of murder. In reality, more of the credit for that went down to one far more obvious candidate. That, of course, was Lisbon herself.

With that, he stood up, fished out his car keys and strode out of Lisbon’s home. At breakneck speed, he drove to the CBI headquarters, all the while growing increasingly more confident that that would be her whereabouts. He could already hear her chastising him for speeding, but he didn’t care. He just needed to see her, to talk things through with her. Jane needed her to know that if she wanted it, then he could see a future with her. It would just have to wait until it was safer for them to do so. For the first time in ten years, he had hope, something that was actually positive to cling onto. The change was already doing him a hell of a lot of good.

When he spotted her SUV parked in her regular spot in front of the CBI headquarters, he smiled broadly. His hunch was right; of course it was. In reality, he never doubted himself for an instant. Quickly, he parked up beside her and killed the engine. His hands were shaking ever so slightly; it was so unlike him to feel this nervous. After all, she was Lisbon; there was nothing to be afraid of. He knew how he felt about her, and this talk was a necessary evil. She had run away out of fear of it, but Jane wasn’t willing to let her get away with it either. Before he entered the building, he paused and stopped by the outdoor coffee cart for his tea and a peace offering for her. Lisbon liked the luxury of her good coffee so if anything was going to placate her enough to actually talk to him, it was that.

Jane knew why she was behaving in such a way; she was scared. Lisbon had never been able to commit to somebody; it just wasn't in her nature. And even if she did find a way to get over her phobia of commitment and long term relationships, there was still the other problem looming over them: Red John. But, Jane was convinced that they could get over all that, one day. The main issue for him was persuading Lisbon that they hadn't made a dreadful mistake; they just had to put their relationship on ice until a more appropriate time. And that would also provide her with the suitable time and space needed to reassess her mindset. As far as Jane was concerned, that was a win all around.

With one coffee and tea in hand, Jane made his way upstairs and towards Lisbon's office. He smiled warmly when he spotted her shadowy figure hunched over her desk; she was completely engrossed in her precious paperwork. Jane knew that she didn't really enjoy it and just saw it as a necessary evil. In reality, she would have much preferred to spend more time actually fighting crime than being tied up with bureaucracy. However, that didn't change the fact that she was a perfectionist and wasn't happy until every piece of paperwork pertaining to a case was signed and safely filed away.

“Hey,” she said, without even bothering to look up from her paperwork the moment he entered her office. “What are you doing here?”

He sat opposite her and placed the coffee down in front of her. Sometimes, it surprised him just how perceptive she had become, but he never let it show. She had learned a lot on the job and he was proud of her. However, it sometimes meant that she was a little more difficult for him to read now too. But that didn’t worry him so much; Patrick Jane had always liked a challenge. Besides, he knew that she would never cease to be utterly predictable and unscrupulously honest.

“The same could be said of you,” he replied with a quirk of his eyebrow. Again, she didn’t even bother to look up, or even acknowledge the coffee he had given her.

“What are you doing here?” she repeated stubbornly. “I want an answer, Jane.”

“We need to talk.”

Finally, she placed down her pen, laced her fingers and regarded him seriously. It was the eye contact that he had been craving all along. Jane wasn’t surprised to see the hint of sadness in her eyes, and deep down, he already knew what she was going to say. After all, deniability had always been her closest ally. If she could claim she didn’t know, then nothing could hurt her. It was something he had played on for a long while, but sooner or later, it was inevitable that their luck would run out. He just hoped that this latest incident which had happened between them wouldn’t be the tipping point. Of everyone he had known since his wife and daughter’s deaths, she was the only person he couldn’t risk losing – both physically and metaphorically.

“It’s forgotten. It didn’t happen.”

“But it did. Teresa, we need to…”

“We can’t do this, Jane. We either pretend it didn’t happen or you leave the unit. It’s as simple as that.”

From her tone, he knew there was nothing he could do to change her mind. All he could do now was hope that things would be different after Red John. But for now, she wasn’t even willing to entertain the thought of that mere possibility. And how could he blame her for being stuck in the present when there was a serial killer who was after both of their blood?


	3. Chapter 3

It had been exactly seven weeks since she had slept with Jane. A busy seven weeks too; they had saved J.J. LaRoche’s skin, she’d had a nasty fall and broken her wrist and Jane had shied away from her as he had tried to close in on Red John. Her opinions on LaRoche had certainly altered, her wrist had healed up quickly and the Red John case had certainly changed. And although she had claimed that she had completely forgotten about it, of course, Lisbon hadn't. It was always lingering at the back of her mind and thus, it was impossible for her to do. In spite of herself, she knew that she was acting differently around him. His constant references to just how bad she was at lying didn’t help; it was evidence enough that he knew she hadn't put it far from her mind. However, she was still more than happy to ignore the elephant in the room and keep going like normal. Actually talking about it would make it seem all the more real. Even so, things had completely changed and that annoyed her. Lisbon knew that she should have been able to resist him; she was the boss and had to lead by example. She wasn't a young blushing schoolgirl and she had no excuses. Instead, she had landed herself in this mess and there was no way out of it. Crossing that boundary had changed everything, regardless of how much she clung hold of deniability and pretended otherwise.   
   
What was worse, however, was the latest development in the Red John case. Through the deceased Lorelei Martins, he had announced that he was returning and that his murders would be increasing in frequency. It didn't need to be stated explicitly, but Lisbon knew that that also included people who were close to Jane. After all, what was the point in him murdering again if it wasn’t going to hurt his nemesis? Naturally, she was scared for Jane and what it meant for him. She was scared for anyone who Jane had ever known or cared about; the death of Eileen Turner said more than enough. Although it had been two weeks since she had listened to that message, Lisbon could still remember it word for word. Red John had said that he was going to catch Jane if he couldn't stop the serial killer first.   
   
Catch was such an ambiguous word and in Lisbon’s mind, that translated to one thing: a fate worse than death.

There was one thing which she knew both Jane and Red John believed fit the criteria perfectly.    
   
Taking away somebody they loved.   
   
Involuntarily, Lisbon shuddered as she realized what that could mean for her and she almost hated herself for it. She should never have meant that much to him in the first place. That statement applied even more so since their comparatively recent liaison; they had changed the rules, as Red John had said through Lorelei. Jane had said those all-important words to her just once, but it was enough. Some things just didn't need to be said. But, would he really survive the loss of somebody who he had grown to love as deeply as his first wife? It just didn't bear thinking about, especially as she knew that one of seven men would eventually come after her specifically. And it was all because she had been naïve enough to let herself fall in love with her consultant. He should have been out of bounds for this very reason. And she was scared; something which she hated herself even more so for. She was meant to be the brave one, the fearless one, the protector. And now, she was practically cowering because she could feel the hot breath of a serial killer down her neck.

It should never have come to this. All along, she had known it was wrong and yet, she had gotten herself embroiled into Jane and his games. Now, it was going to cost the lives of people he – they – cared about. How long would it be until he started targeting the team before Red John decided to steal her away from Jane? She had no doubt that Red John had a vendetta against her whole unit now; he was going to try and break each and every one of them in order to destroy Jane. It was as simple as that.  
   
She tried to push the thoughts from her mind and stared at the limp salad that was placed before her. Her stomach churned and she wasn't sure whether it was the sight of the food or the thoughts running through her mind that was making her feel so queasy. Eventually, Lisbon shook her head and gave up. They had a new case to be working on and that could easily provide her with an ideal distraction from thoughts of Jane and Red John. It was her job to get justice for victims of homicide; she couldn’t let her own mortality cloud her judgments. That was especially the case as they didn’t know when – or even if – her hunches were correct. She wasn’t Jane; she knew she could have been completely off the mark. But, it just _felt_ right.  
   
"Where have we got to on the Davison case?" she asked as she walked into the bullpen.   
   
Immediately, three sets of eyes were on her and Lisbon couldn't help but smile wryly in response. She genuinely enjoyed being the team leader and was infinitely grateful for her team's loyalty. That was something she needed now more than ever, especially as she was now being forced to keep huge secrets from them. She understood the importance of keeping the suspect list under wraps and she didn’t want to scare them by telling them that their lives could be under threat. Then there was the identity of some of the suspects: Bret Stiles, Gale Bertram, Bob Kirkland and the others too. They were all men they were supposed to be able to trust. One of them was out for their blood. Briefly, she cast her gaze over to the battered leather couch where Jane was lyingwith his jacket over his head. She sighed; some things would never change but it didn't matter. They weren't at a point where they needed his input anyway. At least he was resting and at least he didn’t appear to be quite as troubled as she felt. However, he was a man of masks and mystery; deep down, she knew he probably felt even worse than she did.  
   
"We found another body part, boss. A hand this time," Van Pelt stated calmly, as if finding dismembered body parts was a part of the norm. "Forensics are running it for tests, but it's probably a match. Again, it was being stripped of flesh by maggots..."  
   
At the mention of flesh-eating maggots, Lisbon found herself charging for the bathroom. It was one of the very few things that set her nerves on edge. The last time she had had to face them herself, she had ended up collapsing in front of Jane, much to her embarrassment. But that had been her fault; she had been skipping meals prior to seeing the body in her haste to get to the crime scene. She had felt very light-headed. This time, however, her imagination had gone into overdrive and that had served as the ideal trigger to turn nausea into vomiting.

She made it to the ladies' bathroom just in time. As she retched and heaved, emptying the scant contents of her stomach into the toilet, she shuddered and wished that it would just stop and give her a brief reprieve. When the nausea abated for just a moment, she collapsed onto her haunches, panting for breath. This was the third day in a row she had felt like this. Nobody liked being sick, but Lisbon especially loathed showing any sign of weakness and this was precisely that. Theoretically, she knew that she should take the time off from work until this sickness bug was done with her system, but she simply couldn't afford to do so. Not with so many important cases on the go, with Jane living permanently on a knife-edge and with Red John changing the rules of 'the game'.   
   
Again, the urge to vomit took control over her body and she found herself being violently sick again. Damn this case exposing one of her worst weaknesses; why had the killer decided to dismember the body and strip each part of its flesh with those bugs? Objectively, she understood the current phase in body disposal; get rid of the flesh and you get rid of the evidence. Regardless, the very thought made her skin crawl and her stomach churn. As she crouched over the toilet for a third time, trying desperately to hold back her hair, she felt a familiar hand press against the small of her back. It was obvious who it was; nobody else would have been daring enough to watch her like this. She froze, remembering precisely how it had felt when he'd stripped her bare and done this exact action. Lisbon could recall just what it was like to feel his calloused hands against her skin and how her heart felt like it was going to pound right out of her chest. Eventually, she felt like she had full control over her stomach and it was then that she whipped her head around to snarl at Jane.  
   
"What the hell are you doing here?" she muttered angrily.  
   
"Helping you; what did you think I was doing?"  
   
"Get the hell away from me Jane; I need to get back to work."  
   
"You're… sick,” he stated plainly and calmly, and she immediately noticed the pause as he considered the way to phrase her current predicament. “You need to rest."  
   
"I'm fine," she retorted although she was anything but. There was little point in her pretending to Jane of all people, but she had to for her own sake.  
   
"Teresa…"  
   
"Don't," she interrupted, holding up a hand to stop him. She could feel the tears springing at the back of her eyes and loathed him for toying with her emotions like this. Worse, she hated herself for letting him play her like a violin; she wasn't meant to feel like crying over something as stupid as this. " _Don't_ try that with me. Go away, Jane. I don't want to see or hear from you for the rest of the day."  
   
She brushed past him and headed straight back to the bullpen. The rest of the team didn't comment on the sudden onslaught of her illness and she was grateful for it. It wasn't that they didn't care, of course they did, but they just knew she wanted to behave in a professional manner and get on with the job. Later, in a quiet moment of solitude, she was fairly certain that each and every one of them would check up on her in private. For now, it just wasn't the time. Working on the case provided an ideal distraction, but it didn’t rid her of the sense of nausea or the wave of exhaustion that was beginning to hit her. Eventually, once they had solidified a few leads, she sent her team out to interview the persons of interest. Ordinarily, she would have been the first out on the field, but today, she just didn’t have the energy for it.

With a significant amount of relief, Lisbon was finally able to retreat back to her office. She collapsed into her chair behind her desk and was glad to finally have some privacy. The salad which she had neglected to eat earlier was still in front of her. Groaning, Lisbon picked it up and threw it straight in the trash. Once she settled back down, she pulled a form in front of her to start filling it in and stared at it for a little while. Her eyelids were growing heavier and heavier, and eventually she gave into the temptation to allow them to flutter shut. It wouldn’t hurt, just for a little while. There was nobody here to disturb her. And besides, she was a good worker. She deserved to cut herself some slack every once in a while.

After what felt like only a couple of seconds, Lisbon heard her door creak open and she sprang back awake. She glanced at the clock and somewhat guiltily, noticed that she had spent over an hour asleep. But the more pressing issue was the fact that Jane had seated himself directly opposite her. Part of her wanted to snap at him; she’d given him a direct order and once again, he was ignoring it. The rest was just too tired to care anymore.

“We need to talk,” he said when she refused to say anything to him.

“We talk _every_ day.”

“You know what I mean, Teresa.”

She did know exactly what he meant. He wanted to speak about what happened between them seven weeks ago, before she had broken her wrist after a stupid fall and before Red John had dropped a bombshell on them. Said wrist had only just come out of the cast and it felt good to have that freedom back. However, that was all irrelevant.

“We can’t keep running away from this; we need to deal with the repercussions.”

“What are you trying to say?” she asked, but she didn’t really need to.

Closing her eyes, she cast her mind back to seven weeks ago. She’d been on antibiotics due to a dog bite during a previous case; a safety precaution insisted upon by her doctor. Every day for two weeks, she had to swallow down three of those disgusting pills just to make sure nothing untoward happened to her. But they had side effects, and she had merely assumed that that was the reason she had been feeling under the weather. Especially so when she added in the additional wrist drama she had had to endure. It really hadn’t been a good couple of months for her, and she suspected it was only going to get worse.

Especially so as her mind had finally made the connection that Jane was skirting around. He didn’t want to say it outright because he didn’t want to offend her. Antibiotics suppressed the effects of her contraceptive pill. There was every chance that she wasn’t just feeling run down because of everything that had happened lately. His eyes skirted down her body and eventually fell onto her taut abdomen. She squirmed a little under his gaze before she vocalized what they were both thinking.

“You think I might be pregnant,” she continued flatly.


	4. Chapter 4

After stopping by at a pharmacy to pick up the necessary testing kits, Jane drove Lisbon straight back to her place. He was only marginally surprised that she was willing to let him take control; usually, she fought tooth and nail with him, especially when it came to driving. She even resisted the urge to snap back at the pharmacist who made a suggestive comment as they bought the wares. But Jane knew that the day was taking its toll on her and she was simply too tired to make a fuss.

Now, he found himself sitting on her couch, feeling incredibly exposed and uncomfortable. He had been here before with Angela and had never imagined that this was something he would have to sit through again. Jane knew that the tests were just for routine; she was definitely pregnant; there was no other explanation for all of the symptoms that Lisbon was displaying. However, he also knew that she wouldn’t believe it until she saw the empirical evidence right before her eyes. And even then, she would still be skeptical until it was completely verified by a suitable professional. With Lisbon, it always came down to proof whether it was on a case or within another aspect of her life. The only thing which she seemed comfortable to let it slide with was her religion, but everyone had their flaws.

Four used pregnancy tests already sat on her coffee table. He could see the two thin blue lines on one, a pink dot on another and the two digital devices both clearly read ‘pregnant’. However, all that still wasn’t enough for Teresa Lisbon and she had insisted upon taking the fifth and final test they had brought, just in case the other four had some kind of fault in them. Even when that one confirmed she was indeed expecting his child, she probably still wouldn’t believe it. Jane sighed and twisted the wedding band around his finger. He didn’t feel as guilty as he thought he would have in this circumstance. If he were to have a child with anyone beyond Angela, it would have been Lisbon. He had always been a little bit in love with her; he just hadn’t been able to accept it. And now, she was slowly but surely falling for him as well, but all this was still the wrong place and the wrong time.

How could he justify bringing another child into such a dangerous world? A serial killer had painted targets on both his and Lisbon’s backs. There was somebody out there who had a death wish for this child before its mother had even gotten past the first trimester. He suspected that Lisbon knew just how much danger she was in because of her connection to him; she was no fool and had a lot of empathy in her. Everyone knew she was the most important person in the world to him since his wife and child and since the game changed, Jane knew it was only a matter of time before Red John chose to exploit that link.

And once he found out that Lisbon was expecting?

They didn’t stand a chance.

The palms of his hands were getting sweaty and unconsciously, he wiped them down his pants to dry them off. His mouth was dry; he desperately wanted to go and get a cup of tea and yet, he felt like he was rooted to the spot. He needed to wait for Lisbon, get the prognosis of the final test. It didn’t matter that he knew it would say the same thing as all the other ones; it was her that he really needed to see. There was no escaping the fact now. They needed to do some deep thinking, have a serious talk. This wasn’t just about the two of them, but an innocent child as well.

There were options for them; there always was. For a start, Lisbon wasn’t out of the woods yet. There was still every chance that she could miscarry. Being an older mother-to-be carried all sorts of risks both for mom and baby, so maybe the pregnancy just wouldn’t be viable. At the very thought, he felt a pang in his heart. He genuinely hoped that wouldn’t be the case. Then, there was the simple fact that maybe Lisbon just wouldn’t want to be a mother at all. He still didn’t quite know whether or not motherhood had simply passed her by until now or if she had never wanted kids in the first place. It wasn’t a subject they’d ever needed to discuss. He knew she liked children well enough, but that didn’t necessarily mean she wanted her own. If anything, considering their current predicament, it would make sense if the pregnancy was aborted. Their lives were just too risky and messed up to throw a baby into the mix.

But if she did want the child, then he would have to find a way to protect them both. They could easily lie about the identity of the father; Red John surely couldn’t know they had made love on just the one occasion, could he? He wasn’t psychic. But then, he had managed to pluck that memory about Leilei straight out of his head and Jane still hadn’t quite figured out how he’d managed that. Regardless, Jane already knew that he had to stand by Lisbon, whatever fate she decided for their unborn child.

When it came to the prospect of impending fatherhood, Jane was torn. This baby was a miracle child; they’d used protection, and yet, it had still been determined to exist. He or she would never be a replacement for Charlotte, but they would carve their own niche into his heart. That was, of course, if the pair of them chose to go ahead with this pregnancy. Jane would love and care and protect this child to the ends of the earth. He’d give it the best life he could possibly give it and learn from all the mistakes he’d made with Charlotte. But still, he was scared witless about the concept of having another child. This was something he had absolutely not factored into his life. For years, his sole focus was Red John. Then, Lisbon had become increasingly important to him and thus, they had ended up where they were right now.

Because he had been unable to resist temptation, everything had changed.

Could he really provide the life and security required for a baby? Could he really give up his decade-long quest to kill a serial killer for the hope of a new life? Well, yes, but would he be able to remain emotionally stable while doing so? And would he really be able to stop the killer who had always been two steps ahead of him from taking away another child and another woman he loved, just like he had the first?

When he heard the sound of Lisbon’s footsteps padding downstairs, he broke himself out of his reverie and turned to face her. She looked grim; her lips pursed in a frustration. Jane watched as she flung the offending pregnancy test on the coffee table along with the others. He didn’t object to the fact that she was glaring at him, as if this was entirely his fault. Instead, he got to his feet, closed the distance between them and wrapped her into a tight embrace. Jane could feel the moment when she let her anger go and gave into him and he was relieved. She needed the comfort more than he did. In fact, Jane had never seen her look so scared in her life. Not even when she had a loaded gun pointed directly at her head had she appeared as terrified as she did now.

“What do we do?” she asked.

She didn’t need to tell him the result of the final test. They both knew the truth anyway.

"What do you want to do?"  
   
She opened her mouth to retort but promptly clamped it shut again. Jane knew - and understood - just how troubled she was by this bombshell. After all, it was exactly how he felt too. Any path and direction felt like it was going to be the wrong turning. And worse, since the message from Red John via Lorelei, it felt like he was closer than ever before. Jane had always known that he – and the team by extension – had never really been safe from the serial killer. But now, the danger felt all the more imminent. He swallowed deeply and continued when she refused to answer.

"Teresa, we need to talk about this, you know that."  
   
"Yes," she eventually answered, albeit very quietly  
   
"Over tea?" he suggested.  
   
"Maybe? No, yes; I don't know."  
   
"You're not usually this indecisive," he answered back with a smirk before proffering his hand. "C'mon."  
   
"You _do_ know this is my house, don't you?"  
   
"Since when does that stop me from doing what I like?"  
   
"Good point," Lisbon conceded.  
   
He could feel her reluctance to do anything much as she accepted his hand and slowly, he led her through to her kitchen. It was weird; the Teresa Lisbon that he knew and loved was never really fazed by anything. Stunned, annoyed, amused, angered, frustrated and many other things, yes, but never had he seen her just react so blankly to news. Jane smiled wanly when he spotted the stainless steel teakettle sitting on the hob, ready and waiting to be used. He knew it was a recent purchase, and he put it down to her dislike of coffee since she’d become pregnant. In fact, he was struggling to remember the last time she had had a cup of coffee over tea. That being said, tea didn't solve everything, but it did serve to make things feel a little brighter, if nothing else. He hummed as he prepared two cups of tea and he could feel Lisbon glowering at him from behind. She wasn't at all happy and who could blame her for that?  
   
Carefully, he placed a steaming hot mug in front of Lisbon before taking a seat opposite her. Throughout the years, she had tried to mask her real feelings around him; he knew that she hated the way he could strip somebody down emotionally with just a single glance. It was one thing seeing him do it to other people, but another entirely when she was the one underneath the magnifying glass. But, as always, she was translucent to him. The sheer shock and confusion at this revelation was apparent in her eyes; they were the one thing that always gave her away.   
   
"Did you ever want children?" he started slowly, carefully.  
   
"I didn't _not_ want kids," she replied obliquely and he noted the phraseology immediately. "I just never really thought about it. I always figured that if it happened, it happened. And now that it has..."  
   
"Yes?"   
   
"I don't know. It's messed up, it's wrong. It’s the wrong place and the wrong time. But in the eyes of God, abortion is…” she muttered, shaking her head and then, she glanced away from him. “But what if Red John…"  
   
"Don't worry about Red John. And don’t worry about what God thinks, either. Think about what _you_ want."  
   
"It's not just my decision. It takes two to tango."  
   
"Yeah,” Jane agreed lamely.  
   
"Do you want this baby?" she asked.  
   
"I want whatever you want."  
   
"Damn it, Jane. Stop putting this all on me!"  
   
She slammed a fist against the table before leaping to her feet. Jane noticed the wave of dizziness hit her and he immediately took to her side, helping her to steady herself. Lisbon definitely hadn't taken to pregnancy well and their inability to know what to do next most certainly wasn't helping matters for her. But, ultimately, she was right. He did have to have some sort of an input; it was only right that he did have some sort of a say over this child. By letting her make all the decisions, he was only stressing her out further. It had taken the both of them to create the baby growing within her belly, and therefore, it took the both of them to decide what happened next to it.   
   
"I'm sorry," he whispered and he tucked a few stray strands of hair behind her ear.   
   
"Don't do that."  
   
"Sorry," Jane repeated.  
   
"And stop saying sorry,” Lisbon said firmly, finally regaining some of her confidence. “It's freaking me out."  
   
"I mean it though."  
   
"Yeah. Well?" she prompted.  
   
"I never considered having more children after my daughter, but if I was going to, it would be with you. You know how I feel about you."

Or at least, he hoped she did. Once, he had told her he loved her and then promptly denied it. Part of him wished that he hadn’t, but at the same time, at least the words had already been put out in the open. Jane knew that they had toyed with her mind for a long while. Only now had they been forced to address it properly. But it still felt wrong to say the words again; a part of him just couldn’t do it. Ultimately, Jane knew that it had everything to do with getting closure from one aspect of his life before opening the door to another. However, the lack of closure he had over his family – his _first_ family – wasn’t enough to eradicate the feelings he had for Lisbon. And as a consequence, he had been forced to let her know solely through actions. He knew she felt the same way; if she hadn’t, then they would never have ended up in this predicament in the first place.  
   
"Jane…” she started, but the words died  
   
"But the timing's wrong; you're right."  
   
"We can't keep this baby. It's not fair of us to bring it into this world."  
   
"Yeah. I'm sorry," he spoke quietly.  
   
This time, she didn't object to his words. "Me too."

 


	5. Chapter 5

Somehow, they ended up in bed together once again. Ever since her discovery that she was pregnant with his child, Lisbon had found herself seeking the comfort of being near him at all times. Jane didn’t object; on the contrary he seemed all too willing to indulge in that closeness. Then again, he hadn’t shared intimacy with a woman since his wife’s death, Lorelei Martins excluded. But, this was different to the Lorelei situation. Lisbon didn’t need Jane to explain that to her, she just knew. Unlike the very first time they shared a bed together, they never took it too far again. Instead, Lisbon found herself curled up in Jane's arms, and she could feel his warm breath tickling the back of her neck. All along, she had known that the feeling of security was just a mask; nothing about their lives was safe anymore and even sharing a bed together was potentially risky. What if Red John knew? What if he was really a psychic and had plucked this moment out of Jane's head? What would happen next? 

It was only a small relief for her to know that Jane was sleeping at all. He needed the rest more than anybody else she knew. However, it now felt like the roles were reversed. For the past two weeks, her thoughts had raced through her mind, keeping her awake. As a consequence, she had felt perpetually shattered during the day. Her exhaustion wasn’t all down to pregnancy, Lisbon knew that. It was partially because fear was keeping her awake at night. 

Jane's arms were wrapped tightly around her waist and his hands lay protectively over her abdomen. This, she had quickly discovered, was a position that he seemed to favor. Lisbon swallowed down a lump that was developing in her throat; his baby was growing inside of her. It was a real life, filled with infinite hope and potential. However, it wasn't going to be there for much longer. Come morning, she would be having an abortion and ridding herself of the burden of a child.

Not that a child was necessarily a burden, of course. She had never given much thought into having children of her own; for a long while, she had believed that raising her brothers had been more than enough. Then, there was the consideration of supporting a child financially, balancing family with her career, and more importantly, the risks involved in raising a child of her own. Her job was dangerous; she never wanted her child to have to endure the same conversation she had had at thirteen: the one where she was told that Mommy wasn’t coming home. However, now that she had been thrust into that potential position, it was all that lingered on her mind. She wished she knew what the right decision was and that there was a way for her to go forwards with this pregnancy. 

There was a distinct possibility that this would be her only chance to have a baby. Her biological clock was ticking away; pregnancy and children were getting more and more complicated for her. She was forty now; there were additional complications and risks to carrying a child at such an age – for both mother and child. For years, Lisbon had taken for granted the concept of having a choice over parenthood. However, in reality, time was fast running out. Red John was forcing their hand, making them choose what to do without really thinking about what they wanted. 

Slowly, she extracted herself from Jane's arms. Over the past two weeks, while she had been having appointment after appointment with her gynecologist and delaying the inevitable death of her unborn child, she had taken this small comfort of sharing a bed with Jane on a nightly basis for granted. It was something that was going to have to stop. She couldn’t allow herself to grow accustomed to it. Lisbon knew from experience just what happened to people who got too close to Jane. For so many years now, she had been dancing on a very fine line. It was only a matter of time before the serial killer decided that enough was enough. What she had to do now was catch Red John before he got to her, just as the killer had said to Jane via Lorelei. And that, she knew, was something that would be difficult to do while pregnant. 

She needed to find advice and comfort elsewhere. There was only one place where she felt safe getting that: church. 

As if on autopilot, Lisbon readied herself to go out. She decided to forgo food – her churning stomach simply wouldn’t allow it – and a shower. Instead, she dressed quickly, had a sip of cold water and slipped on her shoes and jacket. Ignoring the onset of the now-familiar nausea, Lisbon picked up her keys and left her home. She allowed her feet to lead her to one of the few places she always felt safe. She refused to let herself feel guilty about leaving Jane alone in her bed; knowing him, he would work out where she had gone anyway. Besides, after all the grief he had caused her over the years, he didn’t deserve much more of her guilt. Lisbon knew that she needed to do this, though. All she wanted was a few moments of quiet solace just to salve her conscience over what she was going to do. Briefly, she pulled out her cellphone and checked the time. She had two hours until this dreaded appointment. Two hours before she sold her soul to the devil, or at least, that was what it felt like to her. 

She had to get Jane and Red John out of her mind, if only for a short while. She simply couldn't go on pining for him in this way. There were too many roadblocks in the way; their relationship just wasn't viable at this moment in time. One day, maybe, it would be and inevitably, it would be too late for them to have kids. That was something she would just have to learn to accept. But for now, the most she could live on was hope that one day, everything that was wrong with their relationship would be eradicated. One day, it could possibly happen, but most certainly not now. 

Over the years, the subject of Patrick Jane had come up in Confession on more than one occasion. Her priest had always given her sound advice and she trusted him and his opinions. She knew that Father Tom made sure she felt more connected to her faith in her day to day life. However, because she had ignored his wise words of late, she found herself pregnant with a baby she would have liked to have more time to think about. The decision to abort the pregnancy was rushed and every time she thought about it, she felt a new wave of guilt which helped to trigger the onset of vomiting. This was half the reason she had used work as an excuse to delay the procedure for so long. Vaguely, she wondered if that was her body's way of telling her that the decision was the wrong one. Jane, meanwhile, would have laughed it off and blamed it on religious guilt. He would have told her just how ludicrous it was that she was feeling this way. The decision they had made was the right one. If she and Jane had a child, Red John would try to steal it away. Jane wasn't allowed hope for the future in the form of a kid. At least, he wasn't from the perspective of Red John, she presumed. 

Once she entered the church, her heart felt a little bit lighter immediately. She headed over to the font and dipped her fingers in the holy water, then crossed herself. Then, she headed a little bit further down, kneeling with her head bowed as she crossed herself for the second time. Finally, she slipped in between the pews and took a seat. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and began to pray. 

When she had finished muttering her prayer quietly, she realized Father Tom was looking down at her with a warm smile. Without a word, he took a seat beside her. He did not judge, he just listened and advised as best he could. Even if a member of his flock didn't want to speak, he offered them his quiet company in the hope that that would be enough to soothe their troubled soul. He was a good man and had been a part of her life ever since she had first moved to Sacramento. Now, she couldn’t imagine living without him.

"I…" she started once the silence became unbearable.

"You look troubled, my dear," he spoke kindly and she nodded in agreement. "Speak; you know you can trust me. Your words will go no further than God and myself, if that is what you need, Teresa."

Lisbon never meant to confide in him; the reason she had come here was to feel closer to God and seek comfort in the building as a whole. She hadn't wanted to face her beloved priest’s disappointment in her. Even though he would never have dared show it on the outside, it would have shone through in his eyes. However, his words had been enough for her to pour her heart and soul out to him. She should have known that he would do this to her; like Jane, her priest had a way of managing to get her to speak. And true to his word, he didn't judge and just listened. He didn't instruct her on what he believed was the right path. Instead, he merely looked at the situation objectively instead of pushing his belief that abortion was wrong, as dictated by his faith. This discussion turned out to be exactly what she needed. 

"I think you have already made your decision, Teresa. I will leave you to pray. If you need anything more I will be in my office. Don't hesitate to disturb me."

He left her in peace and Lisbon just stared back off into the middle distance. This place was so familiar to her that she could have kept her eyes closed and been able to navigate her way around it. For ten years she had been coming here, and for ten years her life had grown increasingly complicated. It was very little wonder that she found herself spending more and more time at church. Where else was she going to be able to straighten out her mind without being distracted by family, work, Jane, or a combination of the three? Slowly, she closed her eyes and concentrated on her breathing. Now was the time to rid herself of her demons. It was inevitable they would quickly return the moment she left the church, but for now she reveled in the moment of peace and solitude.

Lisbon didn’t notice the time slipping by, nor did she care. Father Tom was right; she had made her decision. Deep down, she had probably already known that it was going to go this way. Her head may have said that the abortion was the more logical option, but her heart ruled over her mind. She remained stationary, just waiting for a very specific somebody to come and find her. Lisbon didn’t really want to leave; the moment she did, she knew that she and Jane would have new challenges to face in the wider world.

Her heart quickened slightly when she realized the time had passed 9.30am. She was officially late for the appointment; she wasn’t going to make it in time. At that moment, the door creaked open but Lisbon ignored it. Part of her wondered if it was the priest coming to check if she was okay, but the rest of her knew who it was really going to be. When Jane sprang up beside her, she wasn’t surprised at all to see him. What did surprise her, however, was just how long it took him to come and disturb her in this holy building.

“Hey,” she murmured quietly.

“Hey,” he echoed. “You okay?”

She shook her head. “You need to stop springing up on me in churches.”

“Don’t deflect,” he chastised lightly. “Besides, I didn’t scare you.”

“No. You didn’t. I knew you’d find me eventually.”

They fell into an uncomfortable silence for a moment. Lisbon knew she had to say something, and that she had to explain herself to Jane. It didn’t help matters that he probably already knew why she hadn’t been able to go through with the abortion. Even so, she still had to apologize somehow. They had made a decision and she had backed out of it without even saying a word to him. For fourteen days, she had let the indecision eat her up from the inside and instead of confiding in him, she had just disappeared on the day it had been booked in for.

“Sorry, Jane,” she eventually whispered when it grew unbearable. “I just couldn’t go through with it.”

“I know. I understand,” he replied quietly. And while his words made her feel a little better about her decision, it didn’t change the fact that it was going to be hard for them to bring a child into such a dangerous world.


	6. Chapter 6

Life was becoming increasingly bizarre for Patrick Jane. Without even needing to speak about it, he and Lisbon somehow fell into a relationship. They didn’t especially need terms of endearment or any more expressions of love than they already had; somehow, it just felt like an unspoken agreement that they were now together for good. He moved his scant belongings from the long-stay motel which he had given patronage to for so many years into her home, and that was it. She fit him like a glove and his only regret was that it had taken them so long to get to this point. They didn't shout it from the rooftops - mostly her choice - but also for their safety. Red John was still out there; Jane knew it was foolish moving in with Lisbon, but he just had to be with her. He felt like if he never left her side, then he had half a chance to protect both her and their unborn child. But then again, given the dynamics of their relationship, it had always been _her_ saving _him_ rather than vice versa.

She was sleeping, for once. Ever since she had fallen pregnant, she had struggled to rest at night and instead, napped periodically throughout the day. During his periods of restlessness, Jane watched her struggle and he wished there was something he could do to help it. The only small consolation was that the regular check-ups with the gynecologist went well and their baby was developing nicely. Gently, Jane stroked her hair away from her face and tucked it behind her neck. He placed a couple of gentle kisses on her crown and she stirred slightly. Then, he rested his hands on top of her abdomen, pulling her in tight. He knew it was still too early to feel movement, but this position made him feel like this was actually real. It surprised him just how much he wanted this child now. He had always believed that he never deserved another chance to be a father after what had happened to Charlotte. But this situation and his whole life were so different to any prior mindsets he’d had in the past. 

If only Red John had been dealt with, then things would be far simpler. However, they couldn’t have it all their way. 

They still hadn't informed the team both of their relationship and the pregnancy, although the latter was going to have to be dealt with imminently. At just over four months pregnant, Lisbon was beginning to struggle to hide the way her body was changing in reaction to her impending motherhood. It wasn't that they didn't trust the team to keep their relationship a secret; they just wanted the blanket of security of deniability for that little longer. Besides, they still needed to broach the subject between them. Then, there was the issue of the team potentially treating her differently due to it; he knew that she hated the idea that they would treat her as an invalid just because she was expecting. Jane, however, suspected that they already knew something was up - he was privy to their idle gossip from his usual position on the couch - but they just didn't know exactly what. He also knew that Lisbon wouldn't like the idea of lying about the paternity of her child, but Jane couldn't help but think it would be safer. At least then it would appear that their relationship was still just strictly platonic and that maybe, some people would believe she was in a relationship with somebody else. The problem with that was Lisbon's chronic inability to lie convincingly. That, and the fact that it was probably a sort of mask that Red John would see right through. He sighed. Nothing about this was simple. 

True to his word, Red John had started killing again – and frequently, too. A month didn’t go by without another Red John death, and he knew that critics were questioning whether the CBI was truly capable of bringing down the serial killer. Of course, that only served to stress poor Lisbon out even more and that was something she really didn’t need at this moment in time. Unlike the past, he had become pretty indiscriminate in his choices of murder victim. But, however hard he tried to deny it, there was a pattern to the killings. Red John was closing in on him and the rest of the team, choosing people who were closer and closer to them. Jane held onto Lisbon a little more tightly before he began to run down the people who had lost their lives to the serial killer of late. He needed her close, to be able to feel her breath and be sure she was still with him.

First, a young female member of Cho's old gang had been struck down. Then the elderly gentleman who lived below Rigsby's old apartment was killed; Jane knew that he used to babysit Ben occasionally for him and Rigsby was struggling to explain to his young son why he wouldn’t be staying with Mr. Drew anymore. And just last week, Van Pelt's yoga instructor had been brutally killed in her yoga studio. There was more blood splattered on the walls and floors than there had been left in the poor woman's body. Naturally, sweet and sensitive Grace had been the one to discover her; she had been left traumatized by it. On more than one occasion over the past seven days, Jane had offered to talk to her, to offer some sort of solace but she had stubbornly refused. Ever since she had been betrayed by Craig O'Laughlin, there was a bitter streak that ran through her system. Jane hated how the job had changed her and he almost wished he could have the enthusiastic and naive Grace back. 

Now, Red John was hurting more and more people – not just the victims themselves, but their relatives, their friends, their coworkers. The members of the Serious Crimes Unit were especially being damaged by it and all because of their association with him. 

And the main question was: who would be next?

Jane knew that Lisbon would most likely be the next to lose somebody she cared about and that made him feel all the more protective of her. This was the first time that Red John had been predictable, and Jane wished there was a way of knowing which of Lisbon's friends and acquaintances the serial killer would target. For somebody with very little social life, she knew a wide range of people from all walks of life. As Red John no longer showed a preference to sex and age, that made it all the harder to pin it down and offer the person in question protection. 

Then, he froze for a second. There was one plausible explanation for the next victim. Outside of themselves, there was just one person outside of themselves who knew for certain where his and Lisbon's relationship stood. Even Lisbon’s gynecologist had been led to believe that he was just a loyal friend of hers. Jane was about to reach for his cellphone, to send Rigsby or Cho down to her church when Lisbon woke suddenly, wrested herself from his cast-iron grip and fled the bed. 

All of his concerns for others went straight out of the window and he refocused on her entirely. He didn't need to use any of his skills to work out where she was headed: anybody could have figured it out within half a second. Lisbon was his priority and he wasn't going to let her down when she needed him most. After all, when Angela had been expecting Charlotte, he had let her down badly. Half the time, he’d been out on the road, touring and making money. The rest, he’d been too exhausted to even lift a finger. But this time, he was completely happy to play the perfect expectant father-to-be. And as a consequence, Jane padded to the bathroom and frowned; she'd made the time to shut the door. Ordinarily, he would have burst right in but living together had taught him to give her some semblance of privacy every once in a while. So, he tapped on the door three times and waited. 

"Go away," she croaked after he heard that she had managed to briefly stop vomiting. 

"I'm not going to do that, Teresa."

“I’m fine.”  
“Why would I believe you when you look like this?” he questioned.

She opened a mouth to retort angrily, but instead, she had to place her mouth back directly over the toilet bowl as another wave of vomiting took over. Immediately, Jane felt a touch guilty for teasing her, but diligently held her hair back as she was sick. Quietly, he whispered soothing words to her, but he could feel that his presence was doing more to irritate her than soothe her. They had gone through this routine multiple times a day ever since they had realized she was pregnant. Jane had hoped that her morning sickness would dissipate once she was out of the first trimester, but apparently that wasn’t meant to be. He understood why she reacted with such frustration: she hated showing any sign of weakness, even in front of him. Even his skills weren’t enough to undo years of damage she had done to herself as a consequence. 

Hypnotism cannot make somebody do something against their natural character, he reminded himself bitterly. However, this was one of the many occasions when he deeply wished that that was not the case.

“You can trust me,” he reminded her soothingly.

Lisbon wiped her mouth on the back of her hand before awkwardly turning around to face him. Jane knew that she was trying to read him – and he was being as open and honest as feasibly possible with her – but she still believed it was all an act. He couldn’t blame her for that; his track record was hardly glowing and she was in a fractious mood anyway. But then, anyone would be after four months of daily vomiting. 

“Can I?” she asked, glaring at him.

“Yes,” Jane answered back firmly.

“And what about Red John?”

“Really? You want to do that here?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “It’s as good a place as any.”

He shook his head, checked that the nausea had passed and when she nodded, Jane helped Lisbon to her feet. This was a conversation that they needed to have but he refused point blank to have it on the bathroom floor. They needed time and comfort in order to deal with it, not a rushed conversation on a cold tiled floor. Besides, altering their current location delayed the inevitable and gave him time to think. So, he fetched her bathrobe from her bedroom and led her downstairs to the lounge. It took some fighting, but once she had settled on the couch, he was much happier. After preparing a cup of peppermint tea for them both, he was ready to actually broach the subject of Red John.

Even so, he took a little longer than was entirely necessary to make the beverages. He still had to mentally prepare himself for this specific conversation.

In reality, he knew it was something that they should have dealt with long before he had actually moved in with her. But, as far as he was concerned, it was better late than never. Really, living with her had completely warped his old perceptions of the serial killer – and for the better too. Finally, Jane had realized that he had nearly lost her to Red John far too many times for comfort. He couldn’t lose her (and by default, their baby too) by slaughtering the serial killer. That didn’t change the fact that Jane still wanted Red John dead; it just meant that he no longer needed it to be by his own hands.

“Prove it,” she demanded. “Prove that you are no longer hung up on revenge. Prove that you won’t kill Red John and that you’ll let me and my team deal with him.”

In the scheme of things, it was a fair request. It was so rare that he actually gave her proof positive that he meant his word. More often than not, when he had somehow persuaded her to actually trust him, he had ended up letting her down again in the near future. It was a wonder that they had managed to make it to bed at all, never mind begin to live with one another and prepare to have a baby together. They had so much baggage between them they could fill a whole airport. But, he knew one thing that would be able to prove to her that he was ready to move on. There was only one thing that would make her believe he was a changed man and all because of her.

His fingers glided gently over the gold band that had adorned his ring finger for more than half his life. This was his one last connection with Angela besides his memories and a symbol of the broken promises he’d made her. He’d never been able to look after her during their marriage – he’d let her down in the worst possible way – and now he couldn’t even keep the promise to avenge her death. Swallowing down saliva, he managed to slip the thing off and then, he placed it on her coffee table. Jane then stared her directly in the eyes, placed one hand on each of her shoulders and tried to steady his palpating heart. 

“I love you.”

She nodded, contented with his response to her demand. “I love you too,” she answered back quietly before continuing, “thank you.”

Her phone started to ring, quickly disturbing the moment. Before she answered the call, he got a quick glimpse of the person ringing: Cho. Immediately, Jane knew that this phone call was only going to be bringing bad news. Jane didn’t need her to tell him what had happened; he could read it in her every expression. As she bid her second-in-command farewell, he could see that she was still struggling to hold it all together. Instinctively, he enveloped her into a hug and it was then that she breathed the confirmation of her bad news.

“We have a case, Red John. We need to go to church; he has murdered Father Tom.”


	7. Chapter 7

With every passing day, Lisbon felt like the life of herself and her unborn child were in increasing danger. It made it hard to relax, and she knew that the stress wasn’t good for herself or her child. However, with a serial killer out there somewhere – one of seven names, some closer to home than others – after her blood, it was hardly surprising she felt that way. Every day, she offered silent prayers that this whole situation would resolve itself. And every day, she hoped it would be answered. Naturally, she clung onto Jane that little bit harder. He offered her all the solace she needed; besides, if he could get a newfound peace, then that was proof positive that miracles could happen. Now, all she needed was for Red John to be behind bars and then, she could start looking forward to their future together as a family. In the end, she hadn't bothered lying to her team about the paternity of her baby. She had even gone as far as confirming that she and Jane had fallen into some semblance of a relationship. None of her subordinates expressed any surprise at her revelation - instead, they were pleased and offered her the support necessary during her pregnancy. But that didn't change the fact that Red John knew about them. He knew about the baby too. And the noose around her neck was getting increasingly tight. 

Sighing, she stared at her paperwork and unconsciously rubbed her enlarged belly. The baby was kicking again. Much to her chagrin, it seemed like her child didn't understand the concept of sleep. Whether it was morning, noon or night, she was aware of her baby’s restlessness and it had led to her feeling constantly irritable and tired. Jane had once dared to cheekily remark that she wasn’t all that different to normal now she was pregnant and sleep-deprived, only to be rewarded with a sharp punch in the arm. She dreaded to imagine what it would be like after the birth; every mom who spoke to her warned her about the sleepless nights. At least, she figured, she was used to it. Meanwhile, when it came to the baby’s current restlessness, she automatically blamed Jane. After all, it was probably something that the child had inherited from the father. While she had struggled to sleep during pregnancy, before then, she had never really suffered from insomnia. But now, she spent much of the night thinking about the little scrap of life inside of her. They still didn't know their child’s gender; at each scan, Jane had been eager to find out but she refused. Lisbon insisted that she wanted it to be a surprise and in the end, he gave into her. That was one benefit of pregnancy she had especially been enjoying; Jane was more pliable, more willing to listen to her. Even at work, he was causing less and less trouble. 

And that was a very good thing. At seven months pregnant, she was now confined strictly to desk duty. She understood the necessity, but she was bored witless. She was relieved that Jane wasn’t distracting her by causing more problems; instead, he was spending time with her and keeping her spirits up in much better ways. A shoulder rub was never too far away, nor a cup of chamomile tea. Prior to now, she had only ever drunk tea late at night and but lately, she couldn’t get enough of the stuff. Lisbon knew she wouldn’t be surprised if she gave birth to a hyperactive tea drinker with razor sharp observational skills. If it were not for Jane, all she would have been doing was pondering over the poor souls who had recently lost their lives to Red John. Like him, Lisbon had kept track of each death and how they were related to the CBI and specifically, her team. And her mind, once again, drifted to Father Tom. 

It was her fault he had lost his life. She didn't doubt the man had been tortured until he had broken his vow of silence and told Red John (or his associates) all of her secrets. Lisbon didn't blame him for that; instead, she prayed that he was finally at peace now. However, it didn't stop her from wondering when - not if - Red John would choose to target her to utterly destroy Jane. It was probably far too tempting for him not to. Jane had already had one family slaughtered by the serial killer, so the temptation for a second was most likely far too much for somebody with the hubris of Red John.

But Jane was very much living by the adage ‘once bitten, twice shy.’ He seemed convinced that if he spent every waking – and sleeping – moment joined to her hip, then Red John wouldn’t have the chance to snatch her away from him. Even though she appreciated his regular sweet gestures, his constant company was often a little irksome. She was getting to the stage where she wished that he would start focusing more on the job again. After all, they couldn’t live like this forever, not when their baby was due in less than ten weeks. Briefly, she looked up from her paperwork and over to her couch. Jane was napping and he looked so at peace. Did she regret backing out of the abortion? Not at all. Did the changes that had occurred to their relationship as a consequence terrify her? Of course. For so long, she had believed that a relationship with Jane was a far-flung fantasy. Now, it had been thrust upon her, all she could do was question whether or not they had made the right decisions.

The team was sitting, bored, in the bullpen. Excepting Red John, there hadn’t been many murders of late. At least it meant people weren’t killing one another. Lisbon truly believed the mantra that it was a good thing when homicide detectives were bored. It also gave them all the more time to focus on Red John instead; he had to be their priority. Unfortunately, like usual, he was continually slipping through their fingers. Lisbon wished it was possible to put surveillance on each of the seven suspects, but Jane still insisted that that would just make it more dangerous for her. He didn’t want her to force Red John’s hand and hurt her in some way. She could understand that too; he knew he was risking losing another family to him. This time, he was being impeccably cautious about what he said and did. He’d learned his lesson after losing Angela and Charlotte.

Lisbon, however, wondered if it was really all too late. Red John had a personal vendetta against Jane. She was sure that however much Jane had changed, Red John would still never leave him alone. They had both gotten inside one another’s heads, and there was nothing that could be done about it.

When her phone rang, she was startled out of her reverie. Quickly, Lisbon scooped up the plastic formed receiver and placed it against her ear. When the dulcet tones of Gale Bertram spoke smoothly to her, she wasn’t surprised in the slightest. However, over the past seven months it had been exceptionally hard for her not to show him that she believed there was a distinct possibility that he was a serial killer.

“I need your whole team on this case,” Bertram spoke clearly. “Jane included. Given your… condition, you must remain in the office, Agent.”

“Understood,” Lisbon replied, though she flinched at his obvious distaste of her pregnancy.

“That means Jane has to go into the field. He cannot remain with you. Bret Stiles made it absolutely clear that-“

“Wait, Stiles insisted upon Jane’s presence?” she interrupted, cursing herself for being a little rude to the CBI’s director as a consequence.

“Lisbon, one of his church members has been killed; a member of his inner circle, no less. Did you really expect him not to want Jane consulting?”

That news surprised her. She had been so busy trying to read between the lines of what Bertram was saying, to see if she could pick up any hint that he was Red John that she missed the namedrop of Stiles. Now, two potential Red Johns were involved and that made her shudder slightly. Vaguely, she wondered if Haffner was involved – or if he was even the victim – and then, she found herself questioning if Brett Partridge, the coroner who Jane found so irksome, would be dealing with the body. She shook her head; she was getting herself into a convoluted mess and she didn’t even know anything beyond the scant details. Instead of worrying herself further, she bid Bertram farewell after promising that the rest of her team would be at the crime scene as soon as feasibly possible.

And then, suddenly, she found herself actually yearning for her maternity leave, something which she believed she would never have felt like in the past. She had always been so career-driven and now, all she wanted was some time off. This was all getting far too stressful. She needed to relax, not just for her sake, but for that of her and Jane’s child, too.

Carefully, she made her way over to the couch and gently woke Jane up. He blinked several times and smiled at her with bleary eyes. Then, he reached out to touch a cheek before stealing a kiss. Lisbon had given up trying to instruct him about boundaries at work; she knew she was fighting a losing battle there. Instead, she just let him get on with what he wanted. And beyond Red John, nobody really seemed to care how he behaved around her so long as he continued to close cases. As a consequence, the same agreement had been passed onto Rigsby and Van Pelt. The pair of them were now blissfully engaged and Van Pelt was vigorously preparing for their impending wedding in her spare time. She had even insisted that Lisbon would be a bridesmaid again and Lisbon had only agreed because it would give her an excuse to shed the baby weight. The sooner this pregnancy was over – the sooner she was ridded of all the aches and pains, the constant nausea, the fussiness of her diet and the chronic insomnia – the better.

“Pregnancy suits you, my dear,” Jane breathed gently as his hand skimmed across her abdomen. “You’re glowing.”

She snorted derisively. “Cut out the crap, Jane. We have a case. You and the rest of the team have to go out into the field.”

“Can’t I stay with you?”

He was pouting and he looked like an overgrown child. Lisbon mentally corrected herself; no, he was an overgrown child. But, she loved him regardless. She didn’t need to say it, nor did she need to hear it from him. They both just knew.

“No. Bertram and Stiles’ orders.”

“Bertram and Stiles, hmm?”

She nodded and Jane finally stood up. “I’ll be back as quick as I can.”

After briefing everybody about the case, they promptly left and Lisbon reveled in the silence of the office. It felt all too rare that she got moments alone now and she liked the solitude. It gave her an opportunity to really focus on the job in hand. Paperwork was never exactly taxing for her – she was incredibly well versed in the skill – but it did take a lot of time to do it. However, she was also getting increasingly sleepier and soon found herself drifting off to sleep.

When she awoke, she realized that she wasn’t alone. She had been handcuffed to her chair, most likely with her own cuffs, she grumbled irritably. Cursing, she wished that she had taken lessons in lock-picking from Jane, but that didn’t stop Lisbon from giving it a good try to escape from her bonds. But it was no use, so instead she glared at the masked figure that was standing right in front of her. He placed a soft hand on the crown of her head then edged ever closer. The blade of the steel knife glinted in the man’s hand and Lisbon realized that she didn’t need any introductions to know who this was.

Just as she had suspected a couple of hours earlier, Red John was finally making his move.

“Don’t make a sound, Agent,” the soft voice – modulated by some sort of device to protect his identity – instructed. “If you do, I’ll only make your death slower and far more painful.”

She swallowed deeply. When his knife sliced expertly through the thin layers of skin near her collarbone, she stifled the desire to scream by biting firmly on her tongue. Warily, she watched as Red John painted his famous motif on the window of her office – it would be seen both from inside and out of the building. When he had finished with his handiwork, he turned to face her. Slowly, he removed his mask and smiled genially at her. Lisbon recognized him in an instant.

“You,” she breathed.

Lisbon went to sound the alarm, but she didn’t have time. Nor did she have the time to offer up a prayer for Jane and their baby. Instead, the blade plunged through her neck and it was a matter of seconds before she was plunged into unconsciousness.


	8. Chapter 8

Jane scanned the lounge of the deceased with only the thinnest veil of interest. This wasn't the place he wanted to be; he wanted to be back at the office, with Lisbon. The later she got in her pregnancy, the more protective of her he had grown. Now, the risks weren't just Red John and the potential threats to her life, but complications with childbirth. Despite looking so youthful and being incredibly fit, Lisbon was still biologically an older mother. It was her first time as well and that only added difficulties to the pregnancy. He just wanted to be there in case anything happened to her or the baby, whether it was due to natural causes or an outside influence. It was only natural that he felt like this; he had already lost one family due to his own doing. He simply couldn’t risk doing that for a second time. If nothing else, Patrick Jane had learned _that_ from his colossal mistake.

But, Gale Bertram and Bret Stiles had insisted upon him dealing with this case and therefore, he had to be here. Firstly, he was mildly suspicious because of who was involved in this request. Both men were in that final list of seven suspects. Of course, Jane had been more than capable of switching on the charm and charisma when around them; he hadn’t once let it slip that he knew there was a possibility of either one of them being the monster who killed his family. Even so, being asked to do this by them specifically made him distinctly uncomfortable. In response, he was more than happy to make his obvious distaste very well known, much to the chagrin of Rigsby, Van Pelt and Cho. But, they were used to him and his idiosyncrasies. They knew how to handle him (or rather, how to just leave him alone to get it out of his system) and they probably expected him to behave in such a way anyway.

The case seemed like a rudimentary one at face value. It appeared that the deceased woman - a young brunette in her early twenties - had been poisoned.  The only aspect of her life that raised an eyebrow was the fact she had been a member of the Visualize cult. Regardless, that kind of crime usually indicated a vindictive woman, potentially a fight over a lover or a job position or the like. Men were more likely to go for stabbings and shootings and blood and violence. Female killers - especially those who prepared rather than killed in the heat of the moment - preferred the subtler methods of murder. However, that was just face value. Jane could sense there was something a little deeper involved in this case. This was precisely why Stiles and Bertram had wanted him to deal with this young Visualize member. Who else would be able to look beyond the obvious, except for maybe Lisbon, of course?

He picked up a photograph and shuddered involuntarily. It had been well established that he barely left Lisbon's side these days, especially for a substantial period of time. This case was going to have them tied up for hours. First, there was the body to inspect. Then, they had to go and interview the relatives of the deceased. Stiles could be added to that list too. Jane knew it was going to be well into the evening before he was able to go and join her back in the office or at her – their – home, complete with a newly decorated nursery in neutral gender tones. He imagined her bored witless, done with all the case files and waiting for one of them to call with some paper trails for her to start chasing up on. The baby would probably be very active - it hardly ever seemed to stay still - only adding even more physical discomfort to her mental anguish. But what if she managed to have a catnap? What if she was disturbed by Red John?

What if Red John had planted this murder just to get the Serious Crimes Unit away from their team leader for long while? It was only a mere twelve days until Lisbon would be on mandatory maternity leave – the CBI always insisted upon it as the job was ‘too dangerous’ for expectant mothers, especially in the latter stages of pregnancy. However, Red John's twisted mind would only find it sweeter if she was killed in the one place she truly felt safe: her office at the CBI. But Jane shook his head violently, trying desperately to dispel himself of the very thought. Paranoia was taking over him when he could have been working to solve this case faster instead of procrastinating on 'what ifs' and 'buts'. Carefully, he placed the photograph back down and took another look at the body. There was a little blood on the head, where she had been knocked out prior to being poisoned and the foam still bubbled around her mouth. She probably never stood a chance.

"Jane, any thoughts?" Cho asked bluntly and he shook his head.

Of course, he had plenty of thoughts and hunches, but he wasn't going to bore them with the gritty details. It was all irrelevant to them anyway; he had to sort out which ones were the more viable options and disregard the unimportant ones. When he had been able to paint a clearer picture of the case in hand, maybe then he would feel comfortable divulging his thoughts and feelings about it to the others. Jane knew he was still notorious for keeping secrets from other people, but it didn't matter to him all that much. He was far more open to Lisbon now than he had ever been with other people, Angela included. She had done so much to earn his trust and respect, so she deserved the same treatment in kind. And now, she was giving him the ultimate accolade of being able to truly call himself a father again. He couldn't wait to hold their precious baby in his arms, to pick out the features that resembled mom so much and decipher which parts were very much like daddy. Maybe, the baby would even hold a passing resemblance to his or her half-sister. It still hurt him to know both of his children would never know one another, but that couldn't be helped. Besides, he’d never have met Lisbon if it weren’t for his past.

What could be improved, however, was ridding the world of Red John so the baby would have a far safer world to live in.

“I’m done here,” Jane said, and Van Pelt glanced at him curiously. “Let’s get on.”

Cho nodded. “Van Pelt, get back to the office and help Lisbon with the paper trails. Rigsby, Jane and I will go and talk to her parents.”

“Actually, I’ll help Lisbon and Van Pelt with the paper trails,” Jane stated.

Rigsby actually laughed out loud, but when Jane shot him a dirty glance, he quickly clamped his mouth shut guiltily. Jane watched as he dried his sweaty palms on his pants and averted his gaze. Mentally, Jane started counting down from ten to one. He knew that it would take that amount of time for Rigsby’s mind to catch up with his body before he dared to apologize.

“I’m sorry Jane, but the idea of you doing paperwork…” Again, Rigsby dissolved into a fit of giggles and it was obvious that Van Pelt was trying not to join him in such a state.

“The boss said you have to actually work this case. You’re of no use in the office.”

“I’m going back to the office.”

“Lisbon will be fine,” Cho said and he placed a hand on Jane’s shoulder. Jane flinched and pulled away from his uncharacteristic touch. However, it did show just how much the team cared about one another.

“She can look after herself.”

“She’s also heavily pregnant; a world that is completely foreign to her. I need to be there to support her through this.”

Cho raised a surprised eyebrow. Six months ago, this kind of behavior would have been completely unexpected of Jane. He’d been fixated on the Red John case; none of the team knew he and Lisbon were trying to whittle a list of seven suspects down to one. And most importantly: while he had undoubtedly loved Teresa Lisbon at the time, he hadn’t been physically capable of acknowledging it. From what was meant to be a one night stand, a new life had been created and solidified their bond. Now, Jane knew that everything he had to do was for her. Revenge had long since taken a back bench. Only now was the team really beginning to notice just how much of a changed man he was as a consequence.

It took exactly three seconds for Cho – the ersatz team leader while in the field and when Lisbon was otherwise engaged – to relent. Jane, naturally, felt triumphant at the result, but there was a catch. He wasn’t surprised by that, but at least there was some sort of a compromise. It was funny just how acceptable he found compromises now too. It may have taken virtually ten years, but Lisbon had finally succeeded in making him a better man – and, surprisingly enough, he was all the happier for it.

But, he had to accept that this case was important. Gale Bertram, regardless of whether or not he was Red John, was still the director of the CBI. He had pointed out that this Visualize case was of the utmost urgency and the team had to work as hard as feasibly possible on it. Therefore, he was allowed to go back to the office and make sure that Lisbon had eaten some lunch. After spending an hour or so with her, he was to meet Rigsby and Cho at the Visualize headquarters in order to interview an uncharacteristically compliant Bret Stiles. But that wasn’t unexpected; he was the one who had pulled some strings to get them out there in the first place; Lisbon had made that expressly clear when she had done the team briefing. Even so, it was a relief when he was finally back in one of the SUVs with Grace Van Pelt driving sedately along.

“You okay, Jane?” she asked quietly, finally breaking the silence.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You’re lying.”

Jane looked at her and she cocked her head slightly. “Please, Jane. I may still be the youngest member of the team, but that doesn’t make me dumb. Red John’s hurt me too and I know you’re scared he’s going after the boss now.”

Sweet little Grace had always been intuitive. However, she had only refined her skills properly since the Craig O’Laughlin debacle. Realizing that her ex-fiancé was actually a mole for Red John and being forced to shoot him dead had shattered her for a long while. A harder, more cynical Grace had emerged from the chrysalis of that revelation. In some ways, it was for the better and in others, not so much. Regardless, sometimes he forgot the result that Red John had had on her; instead, he took to blaming himself for it.

But one thing was for certain: she was absolutely right. The moment they pulled up at the CBI headquarters, his blood ran cold. Something felt innately wrong about the whole situation they found themselves in. Without even waiting for Grace to kill the engine, Jane flew out of the vehicle and straight towards the building. It only took two seconds for the young agent to catch him up. She didn’t ask any questions; she didn’t have any time for that.

And when it came down to it: it was a good thing that she didn’t bother. The blinds to Lisbon’s office partially obscured what was happening, but it was clear she was not alone. A tall figure swathed in black was leering over her as she sat stock still at the desk. Grace took the lead, un-holstering her gun and removing the safety catch on it. Jane had little choice but to let her take the lead; if that person was who he thought he was then Jane would have no chance. He was unarmed and Lisbon’s life was at stake. When Grace fired three shots in quick succession, Jane flinched but did not stop running. He flew into Lisbon’s office and his heart practically fell out of his chest.

Lisbon was still handcuffed to the chair. The unmistakable smiley face was painted on her window – it must have been done just moments after they had entered the building – and there was a huge gash along her neck. It was meant to be a killing slice, but Red John hadn’t quite managed it yet. She was deeply unconscious, but bleeding out. Jane could see his whole life slipping away from him; both Lisbon and the baby were being stolen away from him. He was going to lose his second family; they were going to be the last official victims of Red John. But Jane would join them as collateral. It was impossible for him to survive without them. He clenched his fists as he tried to find the hope that they would live; they were still alive, he had to cling onto that.

Red John, meanwhile, was still conscious, but only just. Jane allowed Grace to deal with Lisbon and her wounds – she had far better training in medical emergencies than he ever would have – so he turned his attention to the dreadful serial killer.

“ _You_ ,” he breathed as he looked into the steely cold eyes.

“Good game, Patrick,” Red John wheezed before he took one last stuttering breath.

But that didn’t matter now. What did was Lisbon, and Jane honestly couldn’t tell whether or not Grace was losing the fight against Lisbon and death.


	9. Chapter 9

Every day, Patrick Jane dropped by the hospital, waiting desperately for news. He was living in limbo, just trying to make sense of everything that had happened. Just under one year ago, Jane had believed that the realization that Teresa Lisbon was pregnant had turned his whole life upside down. It had given him the chance to try and move on properly, and start a new life. But he had still been living in fear. And he had been right to do so. Because Jane was wrong when he thought that he and Lisbon having a child together completely changed everything; this situation he found himself in was the _real_ game-changer.

Red John was dead. The sharp shooting of Grace Van Pelt had resolved the situation. Jane didn’t get his revenge, but he didn’t care. Grace was like family to him and it made him realize just how much he needed each and every one of the team. Besides, she deserved justice after everything that Red John had put her through. Just like Jane, she needed closure and now, they had both got it, or at least, partially so. The same applied to so many other people who had been touched and scarred by the serial killer. The state of California was reveling in the relief that Red John was no more. Meanwhile, the CBI – and especially the Serious Crimes Unit – was somber. It wasn’t that they were proud of their achievement, but for the simple fact that the cost of closure might just have been that little too high.  
   
Tears sprang at the corners of his eyes as he watched her chest rise and fall, mimicking breathing. He knew it was just an illusion; the machinery that bleeped and clicked at regular intervals was taking the breaths for her. For five long months, she had been comatose. He was just merciful that they had been able to recognize that there was still some brain activity, and that she was still trapped in her mind, somewhere. However, that didn't explain why she refused to recover; why she refused to wake up. All he could do was keep coming to the hospital and keep hoping that one day she would wake up. Then, he would be able to stare deep into her green eyes again and he would be able to truly reconcile everything that had happened to them. And then, they could both start trying to move on, together.   
   
There was one small mercy in this whole debacle: his beloved son had been delivered and he was absolutely healthy. Jane could remember the medics furiously arguing about when to deliver the baby. Lisbon had been too far gone for them to even consider an abortion and he was grateful for that. However, that meant that the doctors had to balance up the baby's health and letting Lisbon's body fight whatever battles it needed to without the complication of pregnancy. In the end, he had been born four weeks early via a cesarean section and was a surprisingly healthy weight. Every check-up and test went smoothly and doctors were pleased with the young boy’s development. It was completely different to the early dramas of Charlotte’s first days; she was born underweight and placed in an incubator. She had nearly been strangled by her mother’s umbilical cord during birth, and for a while doctors worried that she wasn’t developing properly. But her younger half-brother – while he had lived through a dramatic pregnancy – he had been absolutely fine since. The same, meanwhile, couldn’t be said for his mother.   
   
Jane glanced over to watch his son as he snoozed quietly in his pushchair next to his mother's bedside. It broke Jane's heart to know that she didn't know that she had already given birth, that she wasn't even aware what gender he was. He took after her so much and he found himself almost praying that Lisbon would live to see the amazing thing that they had created between them. She believed; she was passionate about her religion, so him uttering a few words of hope couldn’t hurt, could it?

It wasn’t the first time that Jane had almost been driven to prayer. It scared him when he was in such a state that he couldn’t find any solace elsewhere. Of course, if anyone asked – being a firm atheist, he insisted he was just thinking deeply – but it didn’t matter. If this was one way of clinging to hope, then so be it.

“Mr. Jane?”

Jane jolted at the sound of the door creaking open and turned to see Elisa, one of the nurses, creeping through the door. Her wild brown curls had been scraped back off her face and her glasses were slipping back down her nose. Automatically, she pushed them back up again as she knelt down to peer at the charts at the end of the hospital bed. But Jane knew that wasn’t why she was here; really, she wanted the room cleared so doctors could examine Lisbon again.

“Hi, Elisa,” he said softly. “How’s she doing?”

“I’m not really qualified to say,” she answered back tentatively. Instead, she took a moment to admire the baby boy, like she often did. “He’s growing fast.”

“Don’t deflect.”

“Patrick, as far as I know, she’s in the same condition she has been every single day for the past month now. There’s no change. But the doctors need you to leave. They want to try something new,” she paused and again, glanced at the baby in order to give her time to think. “But they need your consent.”

“Will it work?”

“There’s a chance that it won’t.”

“Shouldn’t her doctor be talking to me about this anyway?”

But Jane already knew the answer to that question. While he liked and trusted the young nurse, he and the doctor found their personalities clashed. Despite them both having Teresa Lisbon’s best interests at heart, they simply never seemed capable of finding the common ground. Therefore, young Elisa was the messenger, the woman who had to try to change Jane’s opinion before it was too late. And she had almost succeeded. However, he still needed to know more. He just couldn’t risk losing the only other woman he had ever loved since Angela. She was his second chance and he didn’t want to lose it. He needed her more than he needed anything else.

Conversation turned to the procedure at hand. In spite of her admission that she wasn’t really qualified to talk about it, Elisa knew enough detail about it to satisfy Jane. It answered enough of his questions and ultimately, he knew it was a risk he needed to take. His son needed a mother and he needed her. They had to do this so they could be a family. They had to do this so that they stopped living in some sort of hellish limbo.

Before Jane left to officially sign the appropriate documentation, Elisa stopped him. Her fingers brushed gently against her cross pendant, one which wasn’t too dissimilar to Lisbon’s.

“Patrick, when I came in, did I hear you praying?”

He didn’t lie. “Yes.”

“It doesn’t matter that you still refuse to have faith,” Elisa answered back and touched his arm lightly. “What matters is that you find peace. I pray that you will and I have been every day since I met you. My second cousin… she was one of Red John’s first victims. You helped bring an end to his bloody reign. I’m grateful. And you – and Teresa – don’t deserve to lose more to him now that he is dead.”

“Thank you,” he answered and he promptly grabbed his son’s pushchair and left. The sooner they got this procedure done, the sooner he might begin to see the light at the end of this tunnel.

After promptly signing the forms, Jane headed back to the long-stay motel where he had set up camp since Lisbon’s hospitalization. It was just a five minute walk away from the hospital; Jane simply hadn’t been able to consider the option of being further away from her than that. He felt guilty for forcing his young son to live in such cramped circumstances; it wasn’t fair on a young baby. However, Jane figured that by the time he was old enough to start remembering these things, they would have moved back home. This was always going to be a temporary circumstance, but it had already been going on for far too long. In truth, Jane believed that any time was too long. He should have been able to protect Lisbon; he should have trusted his instincts and not left her side.

For a long while, he focused on his son. After gently picking him up from the pushchair, Jane made sure that he was well fed, burped and his diaper had been changed. These moments provided a brief respite from the stress and feelings of loss and uselessness that he suffered from over the past four months. He reveled in the tiny wails his son emitted, watched with pride as he gurgled down milk contentedly and felt relaxed whenever he felt the boy breathing gently against him. The fact that his son was here, alive and so healthy proved to him that he had to keep having hope in the world. He did have something to live for, even if the future felt bleak. Vaguely, he toyed with putting his son back in the crib to sleep, but in the end, he simply couldn’t do it. Not today, anyway. So instead, Jane perched himself on the end of the bed and stared out into space as the boy slept soundly.

As he kept hold of his son, the tears finally began to fall. He had only just remembered the significance of the date: a year ago today, it had happened. A year ago today, the tiny life that he was cradling had been created. A year ago today, everything about Red John had started to snowball, culminating in the attack on Teresa Lisbon. A year ago today, he’d started something which he never thought he’d be able to do again. A year ago today, he had given into his love for Lisbon and now, he was torn about the aftermath.

He regretted what had happened to her. He couldn’t help but feel that if he’d kept himself under control, then she wouldn’t be comatose.

He regretted not dealing with Red John first.

But he couldn’t regret those moments of happiness which they had made with one another. He would never regret the creation of his son, and the joy that he already felt for him. And for the first time in over a decade, Jane had actually begun to feel alive once again. That was only because of Lisbon and because of their baby. Finally, he had learned to love again and he hoped that it was something that would last forever.

However, love alone wasn’t going to get Lisbon out of her coma.

The doctors would, they had to.

Patrick Jane knew that he couldn’t do this on his own. Lisbon was his anchor, his life raft. Even in this world without Red John, he needed her to be able to cling onto life and the ability to live rather than merely exist. Because, in spite of his son, that was exactly what he was doing right now. He’d put the entirety of his life on hold while he waited for something to happen with Lisbon. Thankfully, the CBI was completely understanding about his decision to halt consulting on cases for now. Cho, Rigsby and Van Pelt hadn’t given up on him; they were all on tenterhooks for news as much as he was. Van Pelt and Rigsby had even insisted upon delaying their wedding because, ‘it wouldn’t be right without the boss there.’ Jane appreciated their sentiments, but it also irritated him. They shouldn’t have had to make these changes because of them, but they had. They needed to live their lives too, but he had a feeling, they wouldn’t let him get left behind.

And, he realized, that he’d spent all this time thinking that she would wake up. That she would be fine and that there would be no adverse side-effects from being comatose for so long. His uncharacteristic hopefulness was probably being as debilitating as it was beneficial. But today, he decided, there had to be answers. And if there wasn’t, then he and his son would just have to move home and start living properly again. That didn’t mean they would let down Lisbon, of course, it just meant that he was going to start living in reality rather than in limbo.

As he sat there, alone, he didn’t even notice the passage of time. Jane glanced at his watch; the procedure should have been over by now, the hospital should have called him. But they hadn’t, and deep down, he knew that that was what he had been waiting for all this time. Vaguely, he started to consider putting his son to bed properly and making himself a cup of tea. But then, he changed his mind. He’d give it another fifteen minutes, he decided. However, he didn’t get that.

The phone rang.


End file.
